


but you still shine.

by literally_jams



Series: the mystery of stars running through your veins [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literally_jams/pseuds/literally_jams
Summary: archie figures out that love can't save him, but he can save himself. and love can help him.





	but you still shine.

**Author's Note:**

> kinda a sequel not really to 'you are the dark part of the sun,' can b read as a continuation or a standalone it's whatever bro. also i tried rlly hard to focus on the theme that jughead cant save archie, only archie can do that for himself but it doesn't mean he has 2 go thru it alone. i love jarchie and idk why im still talking sksksk

there’s always been a jughead-sized hole in archie’s heart.

 

archie feels like it’s an intrinsic part of him, like he wouldn’t know who he was if he wasn’t pining and loving so much that it hurt. the hole in his chest feels big.

 

but it feels like nothing compared to the 9 millimeter hole in fred andrews’s chest. 

 

everything was like a blur to him, he was okay for a second and then he was a fucking mess all over again.

 

first he was in the bathroom at pop’s, feeling lighter than he had been this entire week. he hasn’t seen his dad in a while so it was nice to just sit down with him and talk about construction and how archie can’t understand pythagorean identities. 

 

archie was smiling in the mirror, ready to inhale fries at a speed that could give jughead a run for his money.

 

he walks out and there’s a man in a black hood waving around a gun and then-

 

archie wakes up bent in a hospital chair, a knot in his neck growing more apparent with every passing second of consciousness.  

 

he slowly straightens himself, eyes settling on his dad sleeping on the hospital bed.

 

panic and dread settle in archie and he instantly shoots up, his dad getting shot replaying in his mind like a movie.

 

his head races and suddenly his breathing is mind numbingly loud and his shoulders are tense and so are his hands and he’s shaking so much that he thinks the whole hospital is shaking with him.

 

“archie. archie.” his dad repeats, voice raspy and dry, each call of archie’s name getting louder and more worried.

 

archie takes a deep breath, shuddering. he forces a smile and says, “hey dad. sorry i woke you up.”

 

his dad furrows his brow. “don’t worry about me, arch. i’m here. i’m still kicking. you okay, champ?”

 

_ no, _ his mind thinks. he lets out a breath. he’s so not okay and that alone makes archie want to spill out every horrible thing he’s felt for months now. 

 

but his dad got shot. this isn’t about archie. this is about archie being a good son and tending to his dad.  

 

“you’re the one on the bed, dad. i should be asking if you’re okay.”

 

“i am.” fred says, quiet but strong and it anchors archie. “what’s going on, arch? you’ve been off lately and i’m worried about you.”

 

god, he’s such a burden. his dad got shot and he’s worried about archie and his stupid problems about his friends and the stupid nightmares he’s been having and archie’s just a stupid, stupid waste of energy. 

 

“i’m sorry, dad. i’m fine, really.” archie isn’t sure if he wants his dad to pry or not.

 

“archie.”

 

and the dam breaks. archie buries his face in the sheets and sobs and talks about the stupid fucking pool party he wasn’t invited to and he sobs about how  _ alone  _ he is and how no one gets him as much as jughead did and how he fucking misses jughead so much and they aren’t archie and jughead anymore, they’re betty and jughead and maybe archie as an afterthought. then he moves onto his dad, how he should have been there for him, archie should have jumped in front of the bullet for him, if only he was a good son, if only he was good enough for anyone or anything. archie wants to be wanted and loved so bad but look at him, he’s such a fucking wreck. how could anyone love him? he’s so needy and broken and makes everything about himself and he tries so hard not to and he tries so hard to be selfless when all he is is selfish and archie hates every fucking part of himself so much, it rips him to shreds. 

 

archie looks up, eyes red and throat lodged.

 

“it’s okay, arch. you’re safe. you’re okay. and you aren’t worthless or a burden or anything else short of kind and brave. you’re my boy, archie. it’s not your fault. it’s not your fault.” his dad reassures, always knowing the right words to say. “call jughead. let him know you’re here. you need someone, archie. you don’t need to do this alone.”

 

archie chokes on his words and nods instead. 

 

he’s outside in the waiting room a few hours later because the nurses kicked him out, telling them his dad needs some quiet rest. archie’s fidgeting with his phone, spinning it around and turning it over but never turning it on.

 

finally, he hovers over jughead’s contact and presses call.

 

“hey, arch.” jughead’s voice is tinny through the phone.

 

“jug-“ archie starts, getting cut off by a strangled sound forcing its way out of his throat.

 

“where are you?” jughead replies firmly, worriedly, urgently. 

 

“hospital.”

 

“i’m there in ten.” jughead ends the call.

 

archie lets out a breath.

 

ten minutes translates to about fifteen years in archie time, which he spends pacing and pacing and fixing cups of coffee that he downs in seconds.

 

he’s on maybe his eighth cup when there’s a hand on his wrist, lowering the styrofoam cup onto the table. 

 

“that’s enough coffee for now, yeah? you’re already shaking enough.” jughead says, all soft and it makes archie think of fond looks and secret smiles.

 

archie turns to look at jughead, pale skin glowing and starry freckles and a marble jaw. he’s a work of art.

 

jughead hugs archie and in a moment of vulnerability, archie lets himself be enveloped in denim jacket and love. archie lets himself be weak, just this once.

 

he has his arms around jughead’s waist and his face is buried in jug’s neck and jug’s holding him so tight and maybe this is what it’s like to love jughead without crushing insecurity. archie doesn’t cry, not this time. he’s all out of tears for the day and besides, he’s already opened up more than expected. he can’t expose himself  _ that _ much in one day. 

 

archie is so touch starved that he waits for jughead to pull away, but what surprises him is that jughead doesn’t move. “are you hungry? i’m hungry.” he says softly, in archie’s ear.

 

archie smiles, laughing. “yeah, yeah. let’s get some food.”

 

he knows jughead always wants to go to pop’s but archie can’t go back there, it’s too soon, too familiar and it’s too easy for archie to just blink and see his dad get shot again. he looks away when he says that he doesn’t really want to go to pop’s, so he doesn’t have to see the annoyance in jughead’s eyes.

 

archie thinks he knows jughead so well, but today jughead can’t stop surprising him. archie catches jughead shrugging in the corner of his eye, then hears a “okay. we can go to ihop.”

 

“aren’t they called ihob, now?” archie turns to look at jughead to lighten the mood, but the sunlight gets caught on jughead’s jawline so stunningly that it makes archie forget everything that isn’t  _ jugheadjugheadjughead _ . he catches himself thinking that in a perfect world, archie would have the guts to press his lips against jughead’s skin. 

 

“-oh my god, i forgot about that! it’s so fucking stupid.” jughead laughs loudly, pulling archie out of his thoughts.

 

they’re eating pancakes, after walking in the sun and making stupid faces at each other above propped up menus.

 

it’s a perfect day. the sun doesn’t seem to realize what’s archie’s gone through. it’s easy like this, to focus on who likes who, a thing someone said in english last week, typical high school drama. it’s easy to forget that in the hospital, archie’s dad is being given morphine and trauma to last him another lifetime.

 

after a while, archie blurts out “how’s betty?” because he’s a self-sabotaging bitch out to break his own heart. 

 

jughead pauses mid bite. he chews slowly, buying time to think about an answer.

 

christmas came early for archie when jughead says “we broke up.” 

 

he knows he can’t scream “fuck yes!” to jughead’s face, so he opts for a “oh. what happened?” 

 

he knows it isn’t right, isn’t kind of him to think that it was a good thing that they broke up, she never deserved jughead anyway. it’s not right for him to think that maybe he deserves jughead.

 

“it just wasn’t right,” jughead says. 

 

archie wouldn’t pry if jughead didn't want to talk about it. “okay,” he replies, and they move on.

 

his problems don’t melt away when he’s with jughead, but it makes them a little lighter to carry.

 

he and jughead were drifting apart, but then they collide back with each other after a bullet collides with his dad’s chest. archie hates that  _ that _ was what it took to bring back jughead back to him, and he hates that he’s relieved that jughead came back at all.

 

they’ve been hanging out an awful lot since what archie likes to refer to as ‘the incident.’ archie isn’t quite sure if jughead is  _ back _ back, or he’s just temporarily being with archie to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. archie isn’t quite sure if he wants to know the answer. jughead walks on eggshells around him sometimes, afraid he’s going to say the wrong thing and set archie off like he’s fragile and easily upset. well, he is, but that doesn’t have to change anything.

 

despite them being close again, archie is currently sitting with reggie and veronica at a table of a wendy’s. 

 

“archie. we’re your friends and everything we say right now is in your best interest,” veronica starts off, then leans in for a fry.

 

reggie nods, spoon full of vanilla frosty still in his mouth.

 

“what did i do this time?” archie says, half-jokingly. “you guys here to convince me to join your cult?”

 

“no-“

 

“not right now, we’ll circle back to that later, though.” reggie grins. now this is familiar, easy smiles and light jokes, heavy heart forgotten.

 

veronica cracks a smile before saying, “we brought you out here for a very specific reason-“

 

“are you in love with jughead?” 

 

“for fuck’s sake, stop interrupting me, reggie!”

 

“fuck off! this is the juicy shit we’re here to talk about!”

 

he’s kinda right, so veronica turns to archie. “well?”

 

archie hasn’t been trained for this, since he thought no one would find out due to his tried and true method of ‘i’ll keep my feelings right here, then i’ll die.’ 

 

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lies pretty easily, but he knows they can see through the cracks of his voice.

 

“bullshit!” reggie calls.

 

“how long have you been in love with jughead?”

 

“i’ve never- i’m not in love with him.” he says, more to himself than anyone else. he knows he looks so desperate, eyes wide and knuckles white around his cup, hands wet from the condensation.

 

“archie,” veronica says quietly, and that’s what breaks him. her steady gaze, sympathetic look, voice soft and comforting and it feels like, maybe she understands him.

 

“since i was thirteen,” he chokes out. four years of soft smiles, heartbreak, and biting his pillow to muffle his sorrows.

 

“he likes you too.” reggie says, soft. when did everyone get so soft?

 

“no he doesn’t.” archie’s voice lowers, tired and quiet. “why are you setting me up?” that wasn’t supposed to fall from his mouth, but it does and he doesn’t know if he regrets it or not.

 

“you think i would do that to you?” reggie says, not offended or defensive but rather in a “are you fucking kidding me?” way. “archie, i’ve known you and been your friends since like, kindergarten. i’ve been watching you guys be stupid and gay for like what, twelve years? i wouldn’t say anything if i didn’t think it would work out.” he finishes, blowing his hair out of his face and leaning back into his chair.

 

there’s a quiet snort from veronica, but it’s covered by archie saying “he really likes me?”

 

he feels stupid, he feels like he’s in second grade again, holding a store bought disney themed valentine,  _ ‘from queen cheryl, to archie,’ _ written in red crayola marker. god, he thought it was so special, even if he knew she had to give one to everyone in the class.

 

“yes, you stupid bitch.” reggie rolls his eyes. 

 

“what do i do?” archie says, ignoring reggie.

 

“you tell him. big romantic gestures and shit.” veronica lights up. “like on a ferris wheel, or a picnic, or a-“

 

“nevermind, i’ll figure it out,” archie says pointedly, to which reggie laughs at. “let’s talk about something else.”

 

veronica isn’t bothered at all, instead saying, “i wish they sold red vines here.” 

 

reggie whips around to look at her. “red vines are fucking disgusting, try again sweetie.” 

 

archie snorts, and leans back into his chair. he really does love his friends. 

 

the day it happens, it’s far from what veronica pictured. they’re not on a ferris wheel, or on a picnic, there’s no flowers or chocolate.

 

they’re in archie’s living room, a blanket draped on the couch and two mugs leaving water stains on the coffee table. it’s either friday night or saturday morning and star wars is playing on the tv, which they’ve been marathoning for hours now. archie’s been awake for way too long now and he’s slurring 

his words and struggling to stay awake. 

 

jughead, on the other hand, is sitting next to him so close that archie can feel his leg bouncing and he can sense the caffeine-caused energy radiating off jughead and he can hear the loud crunching of popcorn.

 

“i’m out of popcorn,” jughead says, quietly, like he’s trying not to break the quiet of the room.

 

“okay,” archie says sleepily. “can you make it with m-“

 

“mini m&ms, yeah.” jughead finishes, giving archie a small smile and getting up, his joints cracking.

 

“snap crackle pop, bitch.” archie yawns. 

 

jughead laughs and goes into the kitchen and archie can hear the faint hum of the microwave and the feverish popping over the sound of lightsaber duels. 

 

he comes back a few minutes later, mouth full of popcorn & chocolate. jughead stands in front of the tv, turns to archie, and perfectly mimicking princess leia on the screen, he says “aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” the same time she does.

 

it’s the sleep deprivation talking, but archie laughs loudly, which makes jughead laugh, too. soon they’re just snorting and wheezing and tearing up for no reason, just two teenage boys looking like complete fools. 

 

once the laughter dies down, archie wipes at a tear and with a big grin he says, “i love you.”

 

jughead freezes. “what?”

 

shit. shit. shit! what the fuck did he just do? “i-“ 

 

archie could deny it. he could take it back. just say he’s tired and they wouldn’t have to talk about it ever again. they’d still be friends. archie doesn’t have to ruin anything. 

 

a spark in him says,  _ ‘tell him.’ _

 

archie’s always been indecisive, and he doesn’t know how to make up his min-

 

“say it again.” jughead speaks, eyes wide.

 

“i love you.” the words roll off archie’s tongue easily, like a dam breaking, like he’s let out a breath that he’s been holding for so, so long. 

 

“i love you, too.” jughead says, his smile so bright that it could power archie’s whole house for a year. 

 

“kiss me,” archie responds breathlessly. 

 

jughead looks like he’s about to say something cheeky, but insteads he breathes out an “okay,” and leans in. archie meets him halfway.

 

jughead kisses him softly, and archie mirrors him. archie wants desperate, wants feverish, but he can get that later. right now, he focuses on jughead’s hand cupping his jaw and his hand in jughead’s hair. 

 

archie feels like he’s about to pass out right there, so he pulls away but his smile is so wide that it hurts his cheeks. 

 

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” archie whispers, still close to jughead.

 

he laughs fondly. “tell me about it.” 

 

archie has a million things he wants to say,  _ i’m so in love with you, you’re the only person i could ever want, i’m sorry i’m like this, you deserve more. _

 

but for now, archie leans back in to feel jughead’s warm, inviting, mouth again. everything else can wait.

 

archie can’t believe his life right now. he’s dating jughead jones and he’s still fucked up? 

 

first, jughead jones is his  _ boyfriend!  _ between making out, they established that yes, they both very much like each other, and yes, they want to be boyfriends. life is great!

 

life should be great.

 

grundy has been long gone for a year and his dad has been out of the hospital for a month and a half. 

 

there’s no reason why archie should wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night so often.

 

it’s always the same handful of things, grundy coming back, his dad dying, jughead walking out on him.

 

he wakes up jughead every time, feeling guilty but he can’t go back to sleep without jughead’s fingers running through his red hair and his heartbeat under archie’s ear.

 

“i’m sorry,” he says one night, shaking. his wrist twitches and he has to clench his fingers to make sure they still work. 

 

“don’t be,” jughead replies, his front pressed against archie’s back. the fabric of his shirt darkens with archie’s sweat. 

 

“but i am.” archie’s hand is on jughead’s knee, his thumb circling the bone. “you deserve better than me. i’m still fucked up about shit that i should be over with by now. i don’t know if i’ll ever be  _ not _ fucked up.” his voice is vulnerable, eyes focusing on a loose thread in jughead’s pants.

 

“i’m just as fucked up. that’s why we’re a great pair.” archie can hear the smile in his voice. “hey, look at me.” jughead tilts archie’s chin towards him. “i love you. i love you. i love you.” he presses a kiss to archie’s skin after every time he says it, punctuation ending the sentence. “i want you. i want you so much, archie. i don’t care about ‘deserving better,’ you’re the only person i want. i’m always going to choose you. again and again and again. i’m not going anywhere. i’m yours, archie andrews.”

 

jughead doesn’t really say stuff like that, he shows his love through biting remarks which archie loves, but this, sappy, sweet, adoration makes archie’s heart burst.  “you’re everything i’ve ever wanted,” he murmurs, and kisses jughead, slow, affectionate, loving. 

 

they’re laying down a few minutes, archie about to fall asleep when jughead says gently, “you don’t have to be over it.” 

 

“what?”

 

“you don’t have to be over it,” jughead repeats. “hell, i’m still affected by stuff that happened in like, 2012.” he laughs, a mix of bitter and sad and self-pitying.

 

archie looks at him. “i feel like i should be by now. i should be okay. my life is great.”

 

“you don’t have to be okay. healing takes time, arch. as much time as you need. all you need to do is  _ want _ to heal.” jughead wraps his hand around archie’s finger. “goodnight.”

 

“goodnight,” archie says quietly.

 

the morning after, it’s like it never even happened.

 

archie wakes up to jughead’s face right next to his, and he reaches out to run his thumb along jughead’s cheek and look at the messy black hair in front of his closing eyes. jughead is always guarded, jumpy, protective. in this moment, he has never looked more content and open and vulnerable. there’s light coming in from archie’s blinds, and it frames jughead in a way that’s just angelic. maybe this is what it’s like to be happy.

 

they get up a while later and make breakfast, meaning archie leaves waffle batter on every surface in the kitchen, and jughead is plastered on to him the entire time, chin hooked around archie’s right shoulder and hands in the pocket of archie’s shorts. 

 

it’s domestic. it’s happy. the thoughts tearing apart archie are there, but they don’t make their way to the front of archie’s mind until two days later.

 

of course, it’s nighttime and they’re tired. when the sun goes down, the moon, along with their biggest fears, come up.

 

jughead is sitting on the floor, back against archie’s bed. he’s typing on his laptop, occasionally clicking to another tab to play a round of the jumping t-rex game.

 

archie is in a weird L shape, he has his legs up against the wall and the upper half of his body laying down on the bed. he’s not really doing anything, just thinking about jughead’s words.

 

_ “you don’t have to be okay. healing takes time, arch. as much time as you need. all you need to do is want to heal.”  _

 

what is there to heal from? he’s fine. he’s fine. he’s just shaky sometimes and yeah, he has trouble sleeping, but he’s fine. he can handle it.

 

“i don’t need help. it’s not even a big deal.” archie hears himself saying. 

 

jughead doesn’t respond, so he continues. “the thing about my dad doesn’t even bother me anymore, and i haven’t thought about grundy in months. i’m okay.” they both know he’s lying. he didn’t mean to, sometimes it just. happens.

 

jughead turns around to face him. “after my mom left with jelly, i hated that my mom wasn’t in my life anymore, but i was more fucked up about the fact that i wasn’t good enough to make an effort for.” he huffs out a breath that sounds too sad to be a laugh. 

 

“jug-“

 

“sometimes it’s not the event that bothers you, it’s the residue that makes it bad.” jughead’s voice lowers. “maybe i’m wrong, i dunno. i worry about you. i know something’s up. you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, that’s okay, i just. i worry about you. i want you to be happy.”

 

_ you make me happy _ , archie thinks. “i’m sorry.”

 

“you don’t have to be sorry, you shouldn’t be.” jughead looks at him. “i just want you to know, you don’t have to do this by yourself.” 

 

“you can’t fix me,” archie whispers.

 

“i can’t.” jughead agrees. “i can help you. i can love you through the bad days and the good days and every day in between, but i can’t fix you. only you can do that, but it doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. “

 

archie slides down the bed to lay his head on jughead’s shoulder. “how do you always know the right thing to say?”

 

jughead shrugs, wrapping an arm around archie. “years worth of therapy with my good man, tyler.”

 

archie laughs, and that’s the end of it.

 

it’s easier than archie thought. the next week, archie sits down next to his dad on the couch. he’s been coming up reasons why, and what he can do to pay for it, and everything else his brain could think of. 

 

“i want to go to therapy,” he says to his dad.

 

“okay.” he says, not taking his eyes off the tv.

 

“dad, i said i want to go to therapy.”

 

“and i said okay.” fred turns to him. “i’m glad you told me.”

 

“that’s it?” archie didn’t even need his speech?

 

“yeah. we’ll schedule a time tomorrow.”

 

“you’re not gonna ask why?” archie stares at his dad, eyes wide in confusion.

 

fred shrugs. “i do want you to tell me when you’re ready, but not now. on your own terms, arch. i’m here, whenever you need me.”

 

“can jughead come?” archie asks.

 

“yeah, of course.” fred smiles, and reaches out to ruffle archie’s hair. 

 

archie mirrors his dad’s grin.

 

that afternoon, archie texts jughead.

 

_ arch! [3:52pm]: “i want to get better. for you, for my dad, for me. i want to be able to pick up a guitar again, i want to be able to sleep through the night. i want to be able to breathe again.” _

 

jughead’s reply comes immediately.

 

_ juggie [3:52pm]: “im so fucking proud of u, baby.”  _

 

archie cracks a smile at his phone and jughead sends a picture of kermit the frog with a bunch of heart emojis around him.

 

_ arch! [3:53pm]: “do u want 2 come to therapy with me? u dont hav to lol” _

 

_ juggie [3:53pm]: wouldnt miss it for the world.  _

 

on friday, archie and jughead both skip school.

 

they hop into fred’s truck, bruce springsteen on the radio.

 

“hey, mr. a!” jughead says cheerily from the backseat. 

 

“hi jughead,” fred says warmly, looking at him from the rear view mirror. he turns to archie. “hey, arch.”

 

“hi dad!” archie says, eager to untangle the mess in his head.

 

the drive is quiet, the only noise being the radio and fred’s fingers tapping on the steering wheel in tune with the music.

 

fred fills out archie’s paperwork while he and jughead mess around with the kids’ toys and fred aches at remembering how young his son. too young to go through what he’s gone through. 

 

once they get bored of that, they come sit next to fred, talking about school and how jughead thinks their chemistry teacher should fall down a flight of stairs for giving him a b minus for a “good ass paper!” 

 

“archie andrews?” a middle aged woman calls out with a sweet smile, crow’s feet appearing around her eyes.

 

“that’s you, champ.” fred says, clapping him on the shoulder. 

 

archie gets up and smiles at him and jughead. “guess i gotta go.” 

 

“see you on the other side!” jughead gives him a warm smile and archie returns it.

 

“see you on the other side.” archie confirms.

 

he follows the woman into a cozy room, and the door shuts behind him. 

 

it feels like a breath of fresh air.

**Author's Note:**

> blease comment & give me that sweet, sweet validation


End file.
